Two broken boys
by Inzepoket
Summary: HPDM - After the war, Harry goes back to Hogwarts for his last year and has do deal with depression. Draco just learnt some really bad news and is having a hard time coping with it as well. Tw : self harm Rated M for later. WIP.
1. I'm not okay

**Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters as they are the property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringements are intended.**

**Trigger warnings : Self harm, mentions of suicide.**

**Chapter 1 **

_**I'm not okay**_

The room was dark; Harry could barely see anything but a light moon ray landing before his feet. He was sitting alone on the floor of an empty classroom, his invisibility cloak next to him. Outside, the snow was becoming thicker on the border of the windows, shining under the moonlight.

It was Christmas holidays and honestly Harry didn't feel like celebrating. He'd stayed at Hogwarts while Ron and Hermione went back to the Burrow. It was his choice, of course. Molly had told him that he would always be welcome in the Weasley's house, but he'd declined the invitation with a faint smile on King's cross platform back in September.

He didn't deserve all this. He didn't deserve people's friendship and he didn't belong in the Weasley family, not after Fred's death, not after one of Molly's son was gone because of him. Even dating Ginny didn't make Harry feel like he deserved a place in her family. She had gone home too for Christmas, trying to convince him to join her.

"_You need your family more than I do, Ginny, go home, don't feel bad about me I'll be fine I promise. I just need a bit of time alone" _

Indeed, he needed to be alone. His seventh year at Hogwarts was mentally draining, not only because of the load of homework the N.E.W.T.S year required, he was tired of everyone looking at him with pity. Even his friends Ron and Hermione were too much presence sometimes.

Harry intended to spend the whole Christmas break alone, allowing himself to dwell on his sadness without having to deal with the worried looks that usually came with it.

That's why he was sitting in this room, to be away from the few Gryffindors that stayed too. The common room was way too cheerful for his taste with all the Christmas decorations anyway.

Harry stretched his arms, which caused a moon ray to land on his right hand, where faint letters shone, reminding him of Umbridge's quill. He wished he had the quill, he would write over and over, until the words _I am sorry_ were covering his entire body. Then maybe he would feel better about himself.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted by footsteps nearby in the hallway. He quickly covered himself with his invisibility cloak, in case Filch decided to check the classroom. His intuition seemed quite right as he heard the door opening silently, then saw a silhouette sliding into the room.

Harry froze instantly, startled, and held his breath. What was Malfoy doing here ?

* * *

Draco stayed his back against the door for a few minutes, drawing in sharp breaths between his teeth, his hearth pounding in his chest. The piece of parchment in his shaking hand was crumpled. He couldn't believe it. Draco unfolded the letter to read it again_. Lumos_.

_Mr Draco Malfoy_

_This is with great regret that we are sending you this letter to inform you that Mrs Narcissa Malfoy, born Black, passed away this afternoon in her bed at St Mungo's hospital. _

_Sincere condolences_

_St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries._

Mother was gone, just like father. Draco tried to fight back the tears in his eyes in vain, and found himself collapsing to the floor, his knees to his chest, his fist clenched around the damn piece of parchment.

He'd thought the fall of the Dark Lord would be the end of all his troubles, but he had been highly mistaken. Draco's mother never recovered from the loss of her husband during the battle of Hogwarts, and had let herself die a little bit more everyday ever since, ending in a bed at St Mungo's when she became too frail to even eat.

_You're alone now_, said a vicious voice in his head_, everyone knows you were a Death Eater_, _your name is stained and all the people you ever cared about are gone. Face it Draco, you'd better join your mum and dad._

Shut up. Shut up. "_SHUT UP_ !"

The words burst out louder than he had expected, echoing in the empty room.

"I didn't say anything" answered a voice.

"Who's there?" asked Draco, startled by the fact that he'd let himself cry in front of someone else. He was already on his feet, his wand out and ready to strike.

Footsteps echoed toward him, but he couldn't see anyone.

"_Expelliarmus_"

His wand flew in the air and landed about ten feet away from him, leaving Draco vulnerable to whoever was with him in the room.

"Sorry Malfoy, I can't take any risk of being jinxed" said Potter's voice, although it didn't sound sorry at all.

"Is lurking in the dark one of your new hobbies, Potter ?" spat Draco.

"I happened to be here first, Malfoy. Go find yourself another corner to cry", said Harry Potter as he revealed himself, his wand still pointing at his chest. He looked skinnier than usual, noticed Draco, with huge dark circles under his eyes. "What are you doing here ?"

"I could ask you the same question." Retorted the dark haired man in front of him. "But from what I saw I can tell you needed a quiet place". There was almost sympathy in Potter's voice, and Draco didn't like this at all. His pity was the last thing he needed.

"Save me your thoughtful comments and leave me the fuck alone, Potter"

"Fine, just leave then, the door is this way".

Draco made a few steps to retrieve his wand and was about to turn away and leave, when his eyes fell on Potter, who had sat on the floor in the middle of a moonlit square, with his jaws clenched. He seemed to have already forgotten that Draco was still here. He looked incredibly sad.

Suddenly, Draco realized he was an orphan too, now. Just like Potter was.

'_Must be the only thing we have in common_, thought Draco.

"What ?"

Shit did he just say that out loud ? The look on Potter's face was quizzical, as if he actually was interested in what Draco just said.

"Nothing" Draco snapped.

"Well if we do have anything in common, I'd rather do my best to not share whatever it is with you anymore" said Potter.

"Good luck on bringing your parents back to life then."

* * *

Harry stoop up so quick his head felt dizzy. He was staring at Malfoy with his fists clenched and a murderous look in his eyes. Then, what Malfoy told him settled in his head and he fully realized the meaning of what that meant.

His expression softened slightly. As much as he hated the git, Harry had lost too many people he cared about himself to not empathize with him.

"Your mum—?" he muttered.

"I. Do. Not. Need. Your. Pity. Potter." hissed Malfoy slowly between his teeth, which reminded Harry of Snape. He then took a few steps toward Harry with his wand pointing at his neck. Harry could see Malfoy was shaking and his eyes were still red.

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it, only Malfoy's angry breaths could be heard. Harry's mind was racing, trying to decide of the wisest thing to do in his situation. Malfoy's wand was digging into his neck, making it difficult for him to breathe correctly but he didn't dare to move. The boy attacking him was in a really fragile state of mind and Harry was pretty sure the killing curse was on the tip of Malfoy's tongue.

He decided to put his pride aside and surrender, dropping his own wand on the floor and raising his hands. Dying wasn't much of a problem for Harry, in fact the idea seemed sometimes appealing to him. He just hated Malfoy too much to accept dying by his arch-nemesis' hand.

"Here, just calm down Malfoy."

The blonde's eyes darted to Harry's left wrist which had been revealed when he raised his hands.

_Shit_, thought Harry.

Draco frowned, looking at the faint pink scars on Potter's forearm.

The pressure of his wand on the dark haired wizard softened, not totally withdrawing from his neck. He knew better than to lower his attention while confronting Potter. So The Boy Who Lived And Saved The World From The Most Evil Wizard Ever was having trouble celebrating the end of the war?

Draco knew there'd been losses during the war, one of the Weasley twins was gone, as well as his cousin Nymphadora and her husband Lupin. Draco himself was still mourning some fellow slytherins. He even missed Crabbe, despite the guy's allegiance to the Dark Lord until his death. _And Father._

_Don't go there. Don't think about it._

Draco forced himself to breathe, his thoughts refocusing on the present situation.

He had expected Potter to be bragging about his victory like the Gryffindor he was. Instead, Draco was now staring at what obviously looked like self-harm scars on Potter's wrists.

He quickly glanced at Potter and was taken aback by the defiant look in the boy's green eyes who, noticing the blonde's hesitation, took advantage of it and freed himself in a quick move.

Draco's wand was thrown on the floor once again and his arm found itself locked in his back, unable to move under Potter's firm grip.

"Don't you fucking dare say a word about this to anyone Malfoy or I'll make you regret it" hissed the Gryffindor in his ear. The cold tone was nothing like Potter's usual snarky remarks to Draco's provocations.

_He really means it._

Potter suddenly released him with a thrust and gathered his belongings in a hurry before storming out of the room, leaving a wordless Draco in the room.

**Thanks for reading ! **

**English isn't my first language so please let me know if there's any mistake. I'm also possibly looking for a beta reader so let me know if you're interested :) Reviews are also really appreciated.**


	2. Christmas time

**Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters as they are the property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringements are intended.**

**Trigger warnings : Self harm, mentions of suicide.**

**Chapter 2**

_**Christmas time**_

Narcissa Malfoy's funerals took place three days later, in the little cemetery of the village next to Malfoy Manor. Despite the early afternoon, the sun was already low in the sky and December's wind was biting the skin. Only a few people attended the ceremony, Andromeda Tonks and her husband were present, as well as the Parkinson family. Pansy held Draco tight in her arms for a few moments but his mind was so numb that he barely hugged back. To Draco's surprise, Potter was standing alone away from the small group of people. In other times, he would have told him to sod off but the idea of starting a fight during his mother's funerals seemed too revolting for him to confront Potter.

He hadn't prepared a speech; he didn't feel the need to, his pain was too personal to be shared. His aunt said a few words about her sister, how she wished they'd been closer together. Mrs Parkinson expressed her grieving at the loss of a dear family friend. Despite his best efforts to not allow himself to cry, Draco's cheeks had been wet with tears the whole time. He refused to let himself break in front of other people, but the sadness that had been submerging him for the past three days was too great to be fought. He wanted to be done with the ceremony so he could be alone with his mother and was relieved that the last person had finally talked.

Then Potter stepped awkwardly in the front of the small crowd.

_Oh no you bastard don't you dare bring your well-meant words when everyone knows you despise my family._

Potter closed his eyes for a few seconds and took a sharp breath before talking.

"I didn't know Narcissa Malfoy and I feel out of place being here, and I'm sorry if I'm offending anyone by my presence here", he glanced at Draco, "The thing is — I owe her a life debt that I couldn't repay. That night in the forbidden forest, she saved my life by lying to Voldemort, telling him — telling him that I was dead. She asked me if her son was alive, and I'll always be thankful that she didn't want him to live in a world ruled by a dark wizard. Narcissa Malfoy saved more lives than she'll ever know by risking her life for her family and risked her life lying to a powerful legilimens. My gratitude for her knows no limits. Thank you for listening."

The words left Draco dumbstruck. He had no idea his mother played such an important role in the end of the War.

When everyone left, Draco laid a wreath of white narcissus on the grave and sat down on the cold grass for hours, pouring his heart out to his mother, words of love that she'd never hear.

* * *

On Christmas morning, Harry woke up to a pile of gifts that would have made Dudley jealous. Ron had sent him tickets for a Quidditch match between the Chuddley Cannons and the Pudlemere United, and Hermione's gift was a considerable stack of books about Auror training for when he graduate. He also received sweets and a bottle of cologne from Ginny, the usual Weasley sweater from Molly, a box of the latest Weasley Wizard Wheezes products from George and a greeting card with a picture of Teddy from Andromeda. With a faint smile, he organized his presents neatly in his trunk except for the picture that he kept in his wallet.

Although he explicitly asked to not get any, the fan mail and gifts from strangers were stacked at the end of his bed. He felt a twinge of guilt for not opening them, but he wasn't in the mood to be praised.

Harry grabbed his Firebolt and stopped by the great Hall to snatch a sandwich, heading for the Quidditch pit. Once in the air he let his mind go blank, ignoring the cold biting wind on his face. Flying was the only thing that could calm him these days.

_That and cutting my skin, _he thought.

He'd been occasionally doing it for years, only resorting to it in really bad moments until it took over his life once the war ended. Finding the horcruxes and trying not to get killed had kept his mind busy. Last year kept Harry under constant stress, and now he didn't know why he was still alive.

The first time he self-harmed, he was nine. A broken glass that he tried to hide from his aunt cut through his palm. Seeing the blood dripping had kept him hypnotised for a few minutes, surprised by the _relishing_ physical pain. He'd pocketed a shard of glass and kept it safely in his cupboard, draining the pain from inside when he felt too hopeless to be happy ever again, when Uncle Vernon locked him for too long without any food, when Dudley's plans to make everyone hate him at school worked.

Hogwarts had changed this habit, for the first time he was happy. But then the war and all its losses happened. Nowadays, slicing thought his skin was the only thing that seemed to keep him whole.

* * *

_Merry Christmas._

_-HP_

Draco was staring at the piece of parchment like he couldn't believe it was real. What the hell went on Potter's mind to send him _a bloody Christmas card_ ?

He glanced at his bed where the photo album his aunt offered him laid. Andromeda and his mother were waving at him, in their child summer dresses, blond hair waving in the soft breeze of a sunny afternoon. His gift from Pansy was a leather bound notebook with inlaid green topaz in the cover.

None of his friends returned at Hogwarts for their last years. Greg's father was in Azkaban and his mother moved in the Netherland with her son, fearing for their safety after the war. Pansy was sent in Beauxbâtons as well as the Greengrass sisters, and Blaise was now living in America apparently working in Washington State's branch of the Ministry of Magic.

Spending Christmas alone was a novelty for Draco and he wasn't sure he enjoyed it or not. Despite feeling lonely, he was pretty sure he'd start snapping at whoever tried to talk to him. Skipping breakfast, he decided to go for a walk to calm his nerves, still upset at Potter's card.

His feet brought him to the lake's shore. It was frozen and shining under the morning sun and the white mountains in the background made it a really breath-taking scene. It reminded him of that time they went ice skating with his parents when he was still a kid. A wave of nostalgia rose in his chest and got caught in his throat, and without thinking any further, Draco stepped on the ice. It was totally reckless of him to do so but the ice looked thick enough to walk on it. He tried sliding on the sole of his shoes, spreading his arms and a slight smirk appeared on his lips when he remembered how terrible he was at this.

Draco felt a crack under his feet. _No_.

Then his world went cold, frozen claws gripping at his chest and mind. A gasp for air filled his lungs with frozen needles. Draco didn't have time to panic before his body went completely numb.

_This is how I die._

* * *

**Cliffhanger ! **

**Please tell me what you think of my story so far, this is really new to me to write so I really appreciate any reviews and advice :) Thanks for reading.**


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